


Kingly Contemplations

by Zilentdreamer



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Gen, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-10 19:58:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zilentdreamer/pseuds/Zilentdreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The grating chatter of the goblins washed over Jareth as he slouched in his throne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kingly Contemplations

The grating chatter of the goblins washed over Jareth as he slouched in his throne. One booted foot was draped over the arm rest, his head tilted back to rest on the tanned hide that covered the seat. His gloved fingers twiddled with a slender crop and he tapped the leather tip against his knee. Eyes closed, he didn't need to see the goblins to know that they watched him with a potent combination of fear and awe. Both were delicious in the magic soaked air of his kingdom.

Another girl had been brought into the Labyrinth. He had played his role, and sent the goblins to make due on her wish. Then he had appeared before her and offered her the challenge. Walk the Labyrinth for the chance to rescue her little sister, or leave the child in the hands of the goblins. The girl had taken up the challenge, and even now she was attempting to find her way through the shifting walls.

Lounging in his throne, Jareth could feel the minute changes that a mortal brought to his domain. The magic was sharper, more alive as it challenged the will of the interloper. The very air itself seemed to vibrate as the mortal's dreams wove through the magic that formed the weft and weave of the Labyrinth's core nature. Jareth supposed that was one part of the Challenge he hated the most. That these careless mortals would be able to infect his kingdom with their dreams, fragile as a butterfly's wing, and just as easy to crush.

There was a small whine from the baby girl that sat placidly amongst his minions in the center of his throne room. She was a sweet enough creature, he supposed. So far she seemed content to remain quiet as long as one of the goblins kept her entertained with colored stones and a bone rattle. Watching her, Jareth could only wonder what had possessed the girl running his Labyrinth to wish the infant away.

Jareth continued to watch the baby through hooded eyes before he returned his gaze to the vaulted ceiling. A flick of his wrist vanished the crop, and another quick twist had a crystal materializing in his palm. The cool weight pressed through the material of his glove and he licked his lips as he tasted the magic that rippled outwards from the small summoning.

A smirk tugged the corners of his mouth as he watched the frightened girl stumble wildly through twisting corridors. "What a little fool," he murmured, and the goblins closest to him turned wide eyes upon him.

Such pathetic creatures these girls were. Caught between the naïve wonder of a child and the harsh truths of adulthood, they were easy prey for his spinning web of crystal dreams. Jareth twirled the crystal ball along his fingers, his gaze enraptured by the light that sparkled off the rounded sides. So eager to embrace their dreams, they did not recognize the danger until it was too late.

Within the depths of the crystal Jareth watched as the unfortunate girl's dreams gradually unfolded. As time passed they would grow stronger, clearer. By the end of the thirteen hours he'd given her, he would have stolen something far more precious than a sibling.

The beauty of it was that the girls did not know what they were offering up to him. They did not recognize the snare that lurked behind glittering bait. Did they think it was by chance that they knew the words to summon his minions? The power of their dreams called to him with their siren songs and he gave them the tools to their own inevitable destruction.

Only a powerful dreamer could draw his notice. It was through their dreams that he gave his world shape, a world of magic and wonder built upon the endless dreams of mortals. He thought it only fitting that he should gift them with a chance to see what they would be adding to. With the raw imagination of a child and the budding desires of womanhood that they not yet understood, they were a potent source. It was during this time that they were at their weakest and their dreams the strongest.

Mismatched eyes flicked to the ornate clock that hung in the corner, and the smirk widened, dark satisfaction oozing out of the indolent ruler. "Two hours left and she hasn't made it passed the outer ring."

One of the bolder goblins reached out to pet the baby's downy head. "The baby is as good as ours, Master."

"Yes, it does seem that way." The Goblin King's cool gaze returned to the depths of the crystal. The runner was crying now, her fair face streaked with tears and dirt as she gave into her despair. He had warned her, as was the rules of the dark game he played. All those who entered into his game must enter willingly, or the magic was null.

_'Turn back; turn back before it's too late.'_

So he warned them, it was not his fault that they did not heed his warnings.

_'What a pity. You have thirteen hours in which to solve the Labyrinth before the baby becomes one of us...forever. Such a pity.'_

She would not make it, he knew. After a time he had come to realize that few wishers had the will or the flexibility of self that was needed to overcome his Labyrinth. Too many held the delusions of a child in believing that in the end they would not suffer the consequences brought crashing down upon their own heads. Also was the rigid belief that his world was not real; and thus not a true threat. They learned the truth in the end, but by then he already had what he wanted, and it was far too late.

He had underestimated Sarah.

Jareth curled his lip at the flair of anger that flashed through him, followed by the jagged pain of humiliation. Sarah. A mere mortal, and she'd defeated him at his own game. From the very beginning she'd refused to follow the steps of his dance. So full of fire that one. Her dreams had been powerful, so clear and crisp within his crystal from her first step into his Labyrinth.

It was not the first time his Labyrinth had been defeated by mortal will. It was the nature of the game that only those strong of heart and mind were capable of seeing beyond the deceiving glitter of unfulfilled dreams. It was not the first, but something had been different, none had been like Sarah. It was one thing to walk away from the Labyrinth, dreams and sibling in tow, it was another to bring him so low as to actually beg for them to concede rather than steal his victory one dream filled crystal at a time.

He could still remember the words that had spilled from his lips, and even now they weighed on his tongue like ash. He should have known Sarah was different when he first encountered her dreams. From the beginning there had been something that the others lacked. There had been a spark, a rough heat that had fascinated him, and so he had given her the means to summon him.

It did not help that he could not forget the way her dreams sparkled within the depths of his crystal, or the way the Labyrinth had mirrored her power in a way that had forced him to beg when the end was near.

Once more staring deep into the crystal, Jareth watched as the images inside blossomed with color, the clear surface vibrating against his fingers. So close to that defining moment when dreams were lost and with them his victory was assured. He glanced once more at the clock. One more hour. One more hour until the girl faded, her very being lost without the dreams that gave her purpose.

Jareth smiled. Sarah may have escaped his clutches, but there were so many more dreamers out there, just waiting to be seduced.


End file.
